


The Girl Who No Longer Waited

by Spiffing



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Gen, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-25 06:15:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21971302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spiffing/pseuds/Spiffing
Summary: The Amy we know waited fourteen years for the Raggedy Doctor. For a different Amelia, she only needed to wait for two to see a future version of her floppy hair, bow tie Doctor who offers her an apology. AU.
Kudos: 4





	The Girl Who No Longer Waited

**Author's Note:**

> A short, vague and somewhat bittersweet piece I'd wrote, also in 2011.

Sitting in the swing, he swung gently back and forth. Slow, precise, controlled. The tip of his black boots making uneven, crisscrossing lines in the sand. To others, he seemed completely unconcerned. He was indeed unconcerned, of the scrutiny and suspicion from people who walked by and that the sky was beginning to darken. He watches behind rectangular black shades, observing, waiting. People were interesting, annoying, different. He too is different. He appears young, agile, remarkably intelligent, yet freshly homeless. His lean body contained two hearts, his lungs worked double what an average person needed. And while people had collections of shoes, stamps, and stickers, he has a collection of bow ties. Red bows, blue bows, big bows, small bows, bows with stripes, bows without stripes, dots, swirls, patterns. Bow ties are, and always will be, cool.

The five metre radius around him wavers, cutting through the invisible personal bubble. He saw this coming when he saw the child run across the street towards the remaining three of four swings in the playground. Curious, the child sat herself into the one right next to him. He glances side ways to see the child grinning at him. He returned it with a smile as a silent greeting.

"Let's see who can swing the highest," she says, a challenge revving in her distinct Scottish accent.

He watches her for a moment, marvelling how unconcerned she was of a physically older person being on a children's play set. He wondered where her parents were, if she had any, and why was she allowed all alone and unaccompanied. She goes ahead without his reply, moving back as far as she could before pushing forward. Her fiery red hair trailing after her in ripples as she swings forward, and then hid her face when she swung back, that beautiful vivid hair. He finally accepts her challenge. He nods his head sideways as he turned it to face ahead of him. He wraps his fingers around the chains, reared back, and pushed. It was all in a matter of momentum. He went higher and higher. To his side, he hears laughter and an attempt of a huff in annoyance. He glances at the girl to see that she had stopped trying her best, now merely swinging from the left over exertion. She was looking at him, her eyes twinkling but her lips turned into a frown.

"How do you do it?" she demands.

He stops pushing against the air, allowing himself to slow down as well. He considers answering her and of what answer he should tell her. Should he tell her his secret or tell her a story? Or should he tell her that she was much too young for such heights and if she were to suddenly let go, she would break her fragile neck?

"By reaching out for the stars," he settles with, his voice soft as he murmured those words.

She looks at him as though he was mad but she doesn't voice this. Instead she seemed to be caught up in a distant memory. And then her eyes cleared and stared directly into his gaze. He thought it shouldn't unnerve him, what with him wearing glasses, and thought it was her that should be hesitant. Yet she wasn't. She was strangely determined.

"You said five minutes."

Ah. That. By then, his swing came to a standstill, his feet completely flat against the shifting sand. He watches her for a moment and decides to tell her the truth. He takes his glasses off and it seemed this act only confirmed her suspicions that it was he, the Raggedy Doctor, who crashed into her yard when she was only seven.

"Hello Amelia Pond," he greets.

"Why are you wearing a bow tie?"

"Well, bow ties are cool."

"No, they're not," she deflected him strongly.

She narrows her eyes.

"Are you a professor or something?"

He doesn't answer.

"How many years has it been?" he asks instead.

But he already knew the answer and for his Amelia, his Amelia Pond waited longer.

"Two years," she says, crossing her arms over her chest.

"My Amelia Pond waited for fourteen years," he says this as though it was an afterthought.

"What?" she asks, looking confused. She shakes her head. " _I'm_ Amelia Pond."

"That you are," he agrees.

"Then why did you say 'your Amelia Pond' like there's another me?" she says, demanding, "You _promised_ you would take me with you."

"I did promise you and I'm sorry," he says apologetically. "At the time, my ship had been damaged. The steering was a bit off and while it was five minutes for me, it became fourteen years for you."

"Why are you saying that? You're here now."

"I am but I'm not supposed to be here now. Thirteen years from now, you and I, we went travelling together. We had a wonderful time. And now I'm here, a future me, and here you are, a past you."

The girl frowned, deep in thought.

"You're strange," she says instead.

"That I am," he replies.

"So... that means... what? That I can't travel with you now?"

"I'm sorry," he repeats.

Amelia grumbles, her tiny feet dangling above the sand kicks the air a few times.

"Why not?" she grouses.

He sighs softly.

"Time is a tricky thing," he says, musing. "It's wibbly wobbly. Anything could happen. But there are fixed points in time and I've learnt long ago that it's best not to change those points and leave things as they are."

"Why's that?"

"Well, bad things happen."

"Like what?"

"Like... The universe collapsing."

"That bad, huh?"

"Indeed."

"So I have to wait thirteen more years?" she says this in disappointment.

"Twelve," he corrects impulsively.

"You'll meet my younger self. After that, one more until you travel with him."

There was silence between them. They didn't speak for a while.

"So you, future you, meeting me, before I met younger you again... shouldn't been happened?"

He merely nods.

"Never happened before?"

He nods again, now marvelling at how intelligent this girl is.

"Was I angry?"

He chuckles.

"Very," he replies.

"I would be too except..."

She looks at him with a funny look on her face.

"Except I'm here now?"

She nods.

"I guess I can wait twelve more years."

"Thank you, Amelia."

"Amy."

"Amy," he corrects himself.

The sky darkens more.

"Well," he says, "I best be off now."

He doesn't get off his swing though.

"Will _you_ ever come back?" she asks.

He looks her over, wondering if he should use truth again.

"No," he says gently.

Gently was not enough. He saw the slightly hurt look in her eyes. She hops off her swing.

"I better go too. Mels and Rory are probably wondering where I am."

"Oh, best not to have them waiting," he agrees. "That goes the same for you too."

She was about to leave but turns back, a puzzled look on her face as she voices, "Huh?"

"You don't have to wait for him," he quietly tells her. "I promise he will come but for the meantime, live your life the way you wish to live it. You are brilliant, Amy. You have so much going for you. I can see it in your eyes. You just have to believe in yourself."

He waits, waiting for his message to sink in. When it does, she smiles.

"No waiting around for things to happen. Got it," she says.

She then turns and walks away. He doesn't watch her leave. When she turns back to see the strange man with the bow tie one last time until she meets the younger him, he was no longer there, the fading noise of the blue box departing disappeared along with him.


End file.
